


What I Wouldn't Do

by reclaiming_erebor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birthday, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Thorin tries to cook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:04:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reclaiming_erebor/pseuds/reclaiming_erebor
Summary: Bilbo is throwing Frodo a birthday party. Meanwhile, Thorin’s planning a surprise for Bilbo. After all, it’s Bilbo’s birthday, too.





	

“I should be ready to go in just five or ten minutes,” Bilbo said to Frodo just as Thorin entered the kitchen, carrying an empty cooler in one hand and holding a package of balloons in the other hand. Frodo was sitting at the island in the kitchen, his hands in his lap. Bilbo was standing in front of the refrigerator, pulling out the pan that contained the tea cakes he had made the night before.

“I brought you these, so you wouldn’t have to go dig them out yourself,” Thorin said, setting the items he was carrying on the island, close to where Frodo was sitting.

“Oh! Thank you,” Bilbo said to Thorin. Then, Bilbo turned to Frodo. “I guess I’ll just need to fill the cooler and then we’ll be ready to go then.” He stuck his head back in the refrigerator and began to pull out bottles of water, making sure there were enough. Once he pulled out all the bottles, he began to arrange them in the cooler.

“Come here and give your Uncle Thorin a hug,” Thorin said to Frodo, approaching Frodo where he was sitting.

Frodo jumped out of his chair and wrapped his arms around Thorin, his head barely reaching Thorin’s waist.

“Happy birthday,” Thorin whispered.

“I’m sorry you can’t come to the party, Thorin,” Frodo said, loud enough for Bilbo to hear. Thorin ruffled the boy’s hair with one hand.

“Alright!” Bilbo sighed in relief as he closed the cooler. “It’s all ready now.” He piled the pan and package of balloons on top of the cooler’s red lid.

As if on command, Frodo raced to the doorway of the kitchen, where he stood, waiting for Bilbo to follow.

“Happy birthday to _you_ , Bilbo,” Thorin said, smirking.

“Thank you, Thorin.” Bilbo walked over to Thorin and, standing on his toes, gave Thorin a quick kiss on the lips. Frodo stuck his tongue out in disgust. “Yuck,” Frodo said. Bilbo and Thorin both laughed.

“Come on,” Bilbo said in a joking voice. He grabbed the cooler off the counter, making sure the pan and package stayed steady on top of it, and then joined Frodo at the edge of the kitchen.

“Have fun, you two,” Thorin said, waving to Bilbo and Frodo.

Bilbo turned his back to Thorin and, with the young boy by his side, headed to the front door.

As soon as Bilbo was out of the house, Thorin dug out the cookbook he had been looking at the night before. Despite what he had told Bilbo earlier, Thorin didn’t actually have a work commitment that afternoon; it was just an excuse he made up so he could stay home and cook Bilbo a surprise birthday dinner instead. Thorin had enlisted the help of Frodo to keep Bilbo out of the house while Thorin cooked the meal. It was Frodo’s idea to have the party, since it was his birthday as well. That would keep Bilbo busy.

Placing the cookbook on the island, Thorin opened it to a page Bilbo had saved. Roasted potatoes and onions. Bilbo’s favorite dish. Thorin had studied the recipe the night before, after Bilbo went to bed, making sure that he knew what he would need to prepare it. He was a little nervous about doing this because rarely cooked; Bilbo was always the one to cook. But the recipe looked easy enough, though it had a lot of ingredients. First, there were the basics that Thorin thought he could handle—potatoes, onions, butter, salt—but then there were various spices that Thorin had never even heard of.

_May as well start with what I know,_ Thorin thought. He turned on the oven first, so it would have time to preheat. After all, he only had a few hours to do everything before Bilbo got back. He crossed the kitchen to pull the basic ingredients out of the refrigerator. He set them down on the island and then pulled out a cutting board and knife out of one of the cabinets. He cut up the onions and potatoes first, starting off slow so he wouldn’t cut himself by accident. He could worry about all the spices later. Bilbo was bound to have them all, since this was his favorite dish.

***

Bilbo piled all of the stuff for the party into the trunk of his car. The large cooler went in first, then the pan and the package of balloons. Frodo hopped into the backseat just as Bilbo slammed the trunk shut. Bilbo settled into the driver’s seat and turned the engine on, waiting until he heard its familiar rumbling to begin backing out of the driveway.

After a few minutes of driving, Bilbo parked along the sidewalk next to the park. Frodo was out of the car before Bilbo even unbuckled his seat belt. As he got out of the car, he yelled to Frodo, “Don’t go too far away!” Frodo was running toward the clearing near the park’s playground, but he was still in Bilbo’s sight.

Bilbo lifted the trunk open and pulled out the package of balloons and the pan wrapped in foil. He set the cake and package down on the sidewalk so he could slam the trunk shut without dropping them by accident. With the trunk closed, he picked both the things up and brought them to the picnic tables in the middle of the park, where Frodo was standing. He set them down on the table before Frodo. Then he turned around and ran back to the car to pull the cooler out of the trunk. Carrying the full cooler left Bilbo’s arms a little sore, even though it wasn’t particularly heavy. Was he really _that_ out of shape?

Once everything was sorted out on the picnic tables, Bilbo tore open the package of balloons. He began to fill the first one—a bright green one with yellow stars—with air when he noticed Frodo still standing by the picnic table, watching Bilbo as if he were waiting for something.

Bilbo made eye contact with Frodo as he finished blowing up the first balloon. “Go on,” Bilbo said as he tied a string to the bottom of the now-filled balloon. He nodded to the playground just a few feet away. “Go play.” Frodo’s eyes lit up, and then he dashed away without a word.

One by one, Bilbo filled each of the package’s ten balloons with air, and then tied them all to the picnic tables. When he finished, he threw the empty package into the nearest trash can and watched Frodo slide down the enormous red slide in the middle of the playground.

As Bilbo watched his nephew, he felt a pang of nostalgia, remembering that Frodo was turning six. Six. It felt like just a few weeks ago that Drogo and Primula died, and Bilbo took Frodo in…

Bilbo’s mind drifted away from the memories of Drogo and Primula when he decided to check his watch. He realized that the other boys—Fíli, Kíli, Sam, Merry, and Pippin—would be arriving at any moment. He was about to call Frodo over to the picnic tables, but Frodo was running around the playground structure so contently that he decided not to bother him.

“Bilbo!” came a voice. Bilbo turned. Hamfast Gamgee was quickly approaching the picnic tables. His son, Sam, followed behind him.

“It’s good to see you, Hamfast,” Bilbo said. He turned to Sam. “Go join Frodo,” he said. “I’m sure he’s waiting for you.”

Turning his head, Bilbo noticed his nephew dashing off the playground towards Sam. He watched Frodo and Sam talk together. They looked like they were about to head over to the playground when Bilbo spotted Dís out of the corner of his eye. Dís was herding two boys along with her. Fíli and Kíli.

Frodo ran over to Fíli and Kíli. Sam didn’t follow; instead, he was talking to Merry, who had just arrived as well. Merry’s mother, Esmeralda, stood a few feet away, chatting with Hamfast and Dís. Bilbo joined their conversation.

“I’m glad all the boys could come,” Bilbo said, smiling. “Frodo’s been talking about this all week.”

“There’s Pippin!” Frodo said. All the boys looked toward the edge of the park. Bilbo looked, too.

There were Pippin and his mother, Eglantine, walking into the clearing, away from the line of cars parked along the sidewalk. Eglantine held Pippin’s hand as the two approached Bilbo.

Bilbo cracked a smile. “Thank you guys for coming.”

The adults talked for a minute more, while the boys began to run around.

“Well, I should get going soon,” Hamfast said. “I’ll be back in a couple hours to pick Sam up.”

“Alright. See you later,” Bilbo said before Hamfast began to walk to out of the park.

“It looks like the boys are already having fun,” Dís remarked. Looking toward the playground, Bilbo saw that all the boys were already chasing each other. “Thanks for inviting the boys. I’m sure they’ll have a lot of fun.” Bilbo nodded in agreement. “Anyway, I’ll be back to get them later. Have fun!” She waved to Bilbo and then walked away from the group.

“Since everyone seems to leaving now, we should probably go soon, too,” Esmeralda said, glancing at Eglantine as she spoke. “We’ll be back in a few hours to pick the boys up.”

“I’ll make sure they stay out of trouble,” Bilbo said. He waved to Esmeralda and Eglantine as they began to walk away.

“Please do!” Eglantine replied, almost yelling as she waved back at Bilbo.

Once the women drove away, Bilbo turned back to the playground structure, scanning it for the little boys. They had stopped chasing each other, and were now running around the structure, climbing it, sliding down, climbing back up.

Then Bilbo spotted Frodo standing at the highest point on the structure, standing proudly and smiling as he looked down at the other boys. Bilbo smiled, too, glad to know that Frodo was enjoying himself.

The boys played on the playground, while Bilbo watched them from a distance to make sure they stayed out of trouble. After an hour, Bilbo called them back to the picnic tables. He pulled water bottles out of the cooler, counting them until he had enough for all the boys and himself. He distributed the bottles and then moved to the pan of tea cake. He unwrapped the foil. He had cut the cake up the previous night, so it was already in slices, ready to be eaten.

As the boys began to eat their slices of cake, Bilbo realized that he forgot napkins. The lemon glaze on the cake always made Bilbo’s hands sticky, so he liked to have napkins on hand when he ate them. But he had napkins in his car.

“I’ll be right back,” Bilbo said, backing away from the table. _You better not cause any mischief while I’m gone,_ he added in his head. He headed over to the car, pulled a pile of napkins out of the glove compartment, and then headed back to the table. The boys hadn’t done any damage in the minute that Bilbo was absent. _Good._

All the boys had finished their first slice of cake. Bilbo distributed the napkins, one for each boy, and then asked who wanted seconds. They all did. _Of course._ There was plenty to go around, though. Bilbo handed out one more slice to each boy, and then set aside one more for himself. And there were still a few slices left for Thorin.

Once he finished his slice and wiped his sticky fingers on one of the napkins, Bilbo wrapped the used foil around the pan again.

“You can go play until your parents come to get you,” Bilbo said. The boys ran off, and Bilbo gathered the crumpled-up napkins and empty water bottles and threw them out. Then, he sat down on one of the benches at the picnic table and watched the boys run around. He checked his watch. Hamfast, Dís, Esmeralda, and Eglantine would be coming soon to pick the boys up.

***

The oven was beeping. Thorin ran across the kitchen, pulling on oven mitts so he could get the pot out of the oven. Anything to stop that confounded beeping.

Thorin pulled the pot out of the oven with both hands and brought it over to the stove to set it down. The oven door was still open, the heat seeping out of it and warming the entire kitchen. Pulling the oven mitts off his hands, Thorin looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost dinnertime. Frodo and Bilbo would probably be home soon. Thorin turned away from the stove, but, in doing so, he hit the container of parsley flakes that were sitting on the counter. Why hadn’t he put any of the spices away sooner? He had all this time while the potatoes and onions cooked, in between the times he had to pull the pot out of the oven and stir the contents.

Thorin swore loudly when he saw the mess the parsley flakes had made. The canister had fallen off the counter and spewed flakes all over the floor. And there wasn’t even enough time to clean the mess up before Bilbo and Frodo got home!

_Just worry about it later,_ Thorin thought in an attempt to reassure himself. His heart was racing now, his hands shaking a little. He crossed the kitchen, throwing open one of the cabinet doors to pull out dishes for the dinner. As he set them down on the counter, he heard the front door unlock. Thorin bit his tongue to keep himself from swearing again. Not in front of Frodo. He closed the cabinet door and spun around to face the doorway, expecting Bilbo to come in at any moment.

“What _is_ that smell?” Bilbo said as he closed the front door. A second later, he appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, the pan of tea cake in his hands. Just as Thorin had expected. Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “What happened to work?”

Thorin’s cheeks reddened, but he gave Bilbo a small smile. “Um, I lied about work so I could stay home and make you two dinner instead.”

Bilbo paused, but after a second, he couldn’t help but smile too. “That means a lot, Thorin,” was all he said. He raised his head, trying to get a clear view of the stove, where the pot sat. “Roasted potatoes and onions? Honestly, Thorin, you outdid yourself.” Bilbo moved to the edge of the island closer to the doorway, where he deposited the pan. “There’s some tea cake leftover for you,” he added.

Thorin was glad that the island stood in the middle of the kitchen, so Bilbo couldn’t see the mess of the parsley flakes on the floor in front of the stove. “Go sit down in the dining room and I’ll bring the food out soon,” Thorin said. “Where’s Frodo, by the way?”

“He’s probably already in the dining room,” Bilbo said. “He was really excited when he smelled the food.” Bilbo left the kitchen without another word.

Thorin moved to pull utensils out of a drawer. He stacked them on top of the already stacked dishes on the counter. He picked the pile up with both hands and brought it into the dining room without accidentally dropping anything. It was a good thing that his hands had stopped shaking. As he set dishes down in front of each of the seats at the dining room table, he winked at Frodo, who winked back with satisfaction. Bilbo didn’t seem to notice.

Thorin trailed back into the kitchen to fetch the pot and bring it to the dining room. While he was carrying it, he felt a little bit hungry. He was glad that it was time to eat. Hopefully it turned out alright.

Once everyone was settled for the meal, Thorin insisted that Bilbo serve himself first. Bilbo smiled widely as he took a generous helping of potatoes for himself. Frodo didn’t take as much for himself. Thorin assumed that he probably wasn’t hungry after eating Bilbo’s delicious tea cake—he couldn’t blame the boy; Bilbo’s tea cake _was_ amazing. Thorin didn’t take a lot for himself either, mostly out of fear of how it would taste.

But it didn’t turn out to be terrible. It was alright, actually. Though Thorin was willing to admit that it wasn’t as nearly as good as it was when Bilbo made it. Bilbo nodded a polite thanks at Thorin as he ate the first bite.

Bilbo swallowed before he spoke. “Did you know about Thorin’s plan, Frodo?” Bilbo asked, staring at his wide-eyed nephew across the table.

Frodo eagerly nodded. “Thorin wanted to cook a surprise dinner for you because he’s thankful for all the cooking you do for us.”

Bilbo’s eyes moved to Thorin. They were warm, welcoming. Thorin smiled as he forked a portion of potato and onion chunks.

Nobody said a word for the rest of the meal. Bilbo, Thorin, and Frodo managed to finish most of the pot of roasted potatoes and onions. They could save the last bit for leftovers. Bilbo would certainly be willing to eat the rest.

“I’ll get that, Frodo,” Thorin said, rising from his seat. He gathered up Frodo’s dirty dishes and stacked them on top of his own, just as Frodo jumped from his seat and ran out of the room.

Bilbo stood up, too. He looked ready to help Thorin.

“I can handle it,” Thorin said, moving the stack of dishes toward Bilbo so he could add Bilbo’s dishes to the pile.

“Thank you,” Bilbo said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “It really means a lot to me that you did this.”

Thorin grinned, and then he remembered the mess he had left in the kitchen. “Oh, by the way,” Thorin said, rubbing the back of his neck. “This might be a bad time to mention this, but I kind of, um, made a mess of the parsley flakes in the kitchen. They spilled everywhere and the canister is pretty much empty now and I didn’t have the chance to clean them up because you came home and—”

“I can clean that up while you wash the dishes.”

“No you won’t.” Thorin leaned over and kissed Bilbo. “You’ve done plenty today. I’ll clean it up.”

**Author's Note:**

> The recipes for the food I used in this fic are real! [Here is the recipe for roasted potatoes and onions](http://lotrscrapbook.bookloaf.net/other/recipes.html#potatoesandonions) and [here is the recipe for Bilbo's tea cake](http://lotrscrapbook.bookloaf.net/other/recipes.html#5)


End file.
